


Agent Aw No

by flawedamythyst



Series: Sergeant Snuggles [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Clint Loves Arrows, Communication, M/M, Schmoop, Snuggling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 02:38:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15063185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: It's not until they've been together nearly two years that Clint realises there are cracks in the relationship that they've all just been ignoring, and that even the epic amount of cuddling they do doesn't seem to be fixing.





	Agent Aw No

“I wouldn’t sit there if I were you,” Clint heard Rhodey say, and popped his head out of the kitchen to see Sam hovering over the big sofa, frozen in the moment of sitting.

“Please tell me there aren’t booby traps in this place,” he said, straightening back up and moving to one of the other chairs.

Rhodey snorted. “No, you’ll see,” he said, mysteriously.

The microwave dinged and Clint turned back to the popcorn he was making, suppressing a smile.

Sam had been joining them on missions for a few months now, but it was the first time they’d managed to persuade him that being on the team meant coming along to the movie nights they usually had after a call out. It had only just occurred to Clint that that meant he probably didn’t know about him, Bucky, Tony and Steve.

He made sure to give Sam a smug, knowing smile when he headed in and settled down on the sofa, just where Sam had been about to sit. Sam gave him a frown but was distracted when Bucky came in, having showered and changed into pyjamas. He was wearing his Iron Man pants today, which would make Tony give that little pleased smile he thought they didn’t notice.

“What the hell is that?” Sam asked, staring at Bucky’s arm.

“Sergeant Snuggles,” said Bucky, as if it should be obvious and it hadn’t at all taken him a couple of months to accept the name. He grabbed a handful of popcorn and settled on the sofa, resting his head on Clint’s chest and wrapping Sergeant Snuggles around his waist. Clint put his arm around Bucky's shoulders and pressed a kiss to his forehead, then gave Sam an even smugger look.

Sam rolled his eyes, clearly thinking he knew what was going on. Clint let him think that.

“Are you getting popcorn on my shirt?” he asked Bucky.

“Probably,” said Bucky, eating another kernel from the stash in his hand. “I’d apologise if we didn’t both know you’re gonna get popcorn on it too.”

Clint thought about protesting that and settled for just shrugging. “Yeah, okay. Guess I’ll have to take it off before we go to bed then. Save the sheets, you know?”

“I think we can allow that,” said Steve, coming in with Natasha. She headed over to the armchair that she’d made sure everyone knew was hers, and Steve came to sit on the other side of Bucky, lifting his legs and sliding in under them so that they lay on his lap and he could rest a hand on Bucky’s ankle. 

Bucky shifted so that he could look at him. “Kinda makes me think we should all get popcorn on our shirts,” he said, and threw a couple of kernels at Steve.

Steve’s pyjamas were the old-fashioned blue striped kind, which never ceased to make Clint snigger, because he was sleeping with a guy who wore grandpa jammies. He picked the popcorn off them with a frown. “Don’t be a punk,” he muttered before eating them.

Bucky grinned at him. “Are you saying you didn’t want any popcorn?”

“I’m saying I can get my own,” said Steve, leaning over to grab his own handful then, of course, throwing some of it at Bucky.

Bucky batted it away, which meant it landed on Clint, who sighed. “Children,” he muttered, in his best impression of an actual adult. “I’m surrounded by children.” He ate the popcorn.

“Can we start soon?” asked Rhodey. “Is Tony on his way? JARVIS, he hasn’t got stuck in his workshop, has he?”

“Mr Stark has just finished his shower,” said JARVIS. “He will be with you shortly.”

Tony always took a little bit longer in the shower after a mission that involved water. They’d been fighting some mad scientist with a newt obsession by a lake and Tony had ended up underwater at least twice, although he’d flown right back out again without any problems. Clint had thought about offering to shower with him as some kind of moral support, but given how much mud he’d ended up covered in, he’d decided that wouldn’t have had the right effect on Tony’s mental state.

Tony looked relaxed when he strolled in five minutes later, a tablet in hand as he grinned at them all. “It’s okay, the party can start now I’m here.”

“I’m not sure watching _The Mummy_ counts as a party,” said Natasha, as JARVIS started the movie rolling.

“Any time I’m in the room counts as a party,” said Tony with a wink, then sat down at the end of the sofa. He pulled his feet up to rest his tablet on his knees, which meant he was keeping himself separate from the rest of them. Clint glanced at Bucky to see him thinking the same thing. They weren’t having that.

Bucky shifted further down until his head was resting in Clint’s lap and he could stretch his legs out, over Steve, to reach Tony. He tucked them under Tony’s thigh, just grinning when Tony gave him an exasperated look.

“Fine, fine,” muttered Tony, shifting around so that he was closer to them all, then tipping to rest against Steve’s shoulder. “I’m part of the cuddle pile, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

Steve wrapped an arm around him and gave him a kiss. “Always good to have you with us,” he said as Tony made a grumpy noise and stared down at the tablet to hide how much he liked that.

“Huh,” said Sam, and Clint looked over to see him looking between the four of them. “Okay, you keep that kinda quiet.”

“Not exactly the kinda thing the media is understanding about,” said Clint.

“Idiots,” muttered Bucky, patting at Clint’s hip.

Clint ran a hand through his hair, then turned his attention to watching ancient Egyptians cause even more of a mess than the newt guy had.

It wasn’t until the movie was over and Tony was fast asleep in Steve’s arms while Bucky quietly snored in Clint’s lap that Sam made another comment.

Steve had reached over at some point to take Clint’s hand where it was resting on Bucky’s side. Sam’s eyes caught on the point of connection, then looked up at them. “It’s really all four of you?”

“Yep,” said Clint and, wow, he hadn’t actually known he could sound that smug.

“How long has that been going on?” asked Sam.

“Nearly two years,” said Steve, because of course he kept track. Clint pretty much just dated it from ‘after that time with Namor and the sharks, no, not that time, the other time, when Tony’s suit went down while he was underwater and we all thought he was drowning.’ Which was descriptive, but not exactly great for working out a date from.

Last year, JARVIS had sent them all alerts two days before their anniversary, which was apparently a protocol left over from Tony’s brief relationship with Pepper. It was one Clint was very grateful for, because Steve and Bucky had clearly been all too aware and planning things for ages, whereas as Clint had had to rush out to find a shop where he wouldn’t get recognised buying three anniversary cards at once.

Nearly two years meant he should probably find some time to think of something a bit better than that this year. It also meant this was his longest relationship to date by a ridiculously long time, which was a miracle he tried not to think about too much in case he jinxed it.

“That must take a whole load of communication,” said Sam.

Clint just blinked at him. “Not really,” he said, glancing at Steve, who had the same blank look so, thank god, at least it wasn’t just Clint.

They were distracted from the conversation by Bucky waking up with a violent start and sitting bolt upright, which involved his elbow jabbing into Clint’s leg. It also jostled Steve, which dislodged Tony and woke him up as well.

“Fuck,” snapped Bucky, running both hands over his face.

“Hey,” said Clint, sitting up so that he could wrap an arm around his shoulders. “You’re okay. We’re all here, you’re safe.”

Bucky nodded behind his hands, lungs heaving as he took deep breaths. Clint just rubbed his hand over his back, waiting for him to shake the nightmare. Steve was giving him a concerned look, but he didn’t move in closer. Bucky sometimes needed a bit of space when he woke up from one of his nightmares.

What might help, though, was… Clint stretched over to underneath the sofa, where he happened to know he’d stashed Squishy McSoftbean last time he’d had it, pulled it out and pressed it against Bucky’s chest.

Bucky pulled his hands away from his face to look at it, snorted a laugh, then took hold of it and gave it a squeeze. “Thanks,” he said, dryly.

“Is that a plushie coffee pot?” asked Sam, standing up and giving a stretch.

“Yep,” said Clint. “It’s just about the greatest thing ever made.”

“That’s what you said about the last bow I gave you,” said Tony, pulling his tablet out from the cushion it had slipped behind when he nodded off.

Clint considered that. “Yeah, not sure I can choose between those,” he said. “They’re both just so freaking perfect. Much like the guys who gave them to me.” Steve cleared his throat pointedly. “And Steve,” added Clint. “Who hasn’t given me anything awesome that I can think of off the top of my head, but is still pretty cool.”

“Pretty cool,” repeated Steve. “Yeah, I’ll take it.” He patted Tony’s thigh, then slid out from behind Bucky to stand up. He turned back to Tony and held a hand out to him. “You’re coming to bed with us, and not going to hide in your workshop all night.”

Tony gave him the look that meant he was trying to work out how much leeway he had right now. Clint could have told he had none.

“There’s some patching up to do on the suit,” he said, clearly testing the waters.

“Something to look forward to tomorrow morning,” said Steve.

Tony’s shoulders slumped but Clint didn’t think he was actually all that upset about it. “Okay, fine, I’m coming,” he said, taking Steve’s hand and letting him pull him up into his arms.

Clint nudged Bucky. “Am I getting a super-soldier boost up?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Ask Steve. I’ve already got Squishy Mcsoftbean to carry.”

He made a good point. Clint turned beseeching eyes on Steve, who snorted but obligingly let go of Tony in order to pull Clint up. Clint let himself fall into his arms, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Mmmm….snuggly super-soldier.”

Steve held onto him tightly for a few moments, and Clint let himself enjoy the feeling of being surrounded by him.

 _Two years. I can’t believe I haven’t fucked this up yet,_ he thought.

“C’mon, I’ll show you the spare room Tony’s kitted out for you,” he heard Rhodey say, somewhere in the world beyond Captain America’s arms.

“I have a room?” asked Sam.

“Oh yeah,” said Rhodey. “Pretty much the first thing Tony does with a new team-mate is get started on the interior design.”

“Not true,” said Tony. “The first thing I do is upgrade their weaponry. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Steve tightened his grip for a moment then tried to pull away, but Clint clung on, pushing his face into his neck. “Nope,” he said. “Still need super-soldier snuggles.”

Steve laughed, then kissed his forehead and well, okay, if there were going to be kisses maybe Clint would move. He lifted his head enough to meet Steve’s lips.

“I think our archer’s ready to go to sleep,” said Bucky, and there was a hand resting on Clint’s shoulder. Clint waited until he was quite finished kissing Steve before tipping his head back to look at Bucky.

“This from the guy who slept through the second half of the movie.”

Bucky just grinned at him, then leaned into kiss him, awkwardly fitting their mouths together despite the angle. “I’m awake now,” he said, with just the right hint of promise. Clint grinned back, then turned to Steve.

“Okay, bed time now, yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” agreed Steve with the promising tone that meant he was forming a game plan for the four of them. Fuck, yeah.

****

Clint couldn’t sleep. He found himself staring up at the ceiling, listening to the quiet breathing of the others, thinking about what Sam had said. Did they all communicate enough? How the hell did you tell if you should be communicating more?

He couldn’t stop himself thinking about how many of his other relationships had crumbled through lack of communication. Fuck, would he even know there was a problem before the whole thing was in rubble around his feet?

Tony shifted onto his side, his hand falling onto Clint’s arm and the arc reactor sending a flash of blue light across the ceiling. Clint took a deep breath, then carefully eased out of bed, heading for the lounge. There was no point in just lying awake if he wasn’t going to sleep.

No one else was awake, so he made himself cocoa and settled in one of the chairs that looked out of the balcony windows, curling his feet up underneath himself. Okay, time to think it through. He wasn’t going to be able to tell if the others weren’t communicating stuff, but were there things that he hadn’t said to them that they should probably know?

Well, yes. The most obvious was that he’d never quite managed to tell them he loved them although, in his defence, none of them had said it either. He’d told himself it wasn’t necessary, not with how much physical affection they all engaged in, but it probably was. He just didn’t want to be the first one to lay his heart out there like that.

Which might be what the others were thinking.

Unless it was actually that they weren’t feeling the same things as Clint. Or, shit, were feeling it but for only one or two of them.

Clint clutched tighter to his cocoa mug. He found it all too easily to picture the other three all saying that they loved each other, but it didn’t seem like Clint’s place to be part of that. He was just an idiot ex-carnie, how the hell did he end up on the same level as two legendary super-soldiers and a tech genius billionaire?

He took a deep breath and shoved the thoughts back. That was just 2 a.m. thinking. If the others didn’t want him in this relationship, they’d have told him by now. Steve would have let him down gently, or Tony would have snapped out something that was just a little too direct, or Bucky would have sat him down and come clean, because he hated anything that smacked of all the lies and obfustications that Hydra had gone in for.

There was a noise from the door and he glanced over to see Bucky come in.

“Hey,” he said, with the rough tone that meant he’d had a particularly bad nightmare. Shit, on top of the one he’d had earlier as well.

“Hi,” said Clint, uncurling from his chair. “I just made cocoa, want some?”

Bucky shook his head. He headed straight over to Clint and wrapped his real arm around him in an awkward, one-armed hug that reminded Clint just why he’d created Sergeant Snuggles in the first place.

“It’s okay, man,” he said, wrapping his arms around him in return.

“Yeah,” agreed Bucky, tiredly. “I’m just so sick of this. I want to sleep without nightmares.”

Clint kissed his cheek, which was the nearest piece of skin. “You’re doing better than you were,” he pointed out. “You’re not out here nearly as much as you used to be.”

Bucky sighed. “Don’t wanna be out here at all,” he muttered, then pulled away. “Don’t want you to have to be out here either. You okay?”

“Yeah,” said Clint. “I just couldn’t sleep and figured this was better than staring at the ceiling.”

Bucky gave him a narrow-eyed look that saw too much, then turned away to glance around the room. Sergeant Snuggles was on the shelf underneath the coffee table and he went over to pull it out.

“I’m okay,” said Clint, “you don’t-”

Bucky sent him a glare that shut him up, pulling the cushioned sleeve over his metal arm then strode back to give Clint a proper hug, one of the really good engulfing ones. Clint gave up protesting and relaxed into it.

“You gonna tell me what’s got you lying awake worrying?” asked Bucky, because he was entirely too perceptive.

Clint actually got as far as opening his mouth to play it off as nothing, then realised this was exactly the kind of communication that Sam had meant and sighed instead. “Can we snuggle first?”

“Always,” said Bucky, pulling him over to the sofa. They got settled in with Clint leaning back against Bucky’s chest, wrapped up in his arms, and he let out a long breath and felt himself start to relax. He was worrying over nothing, there was no way something that felt this solid could ever splinter.

“Okay, go on then,” said Bucky, after a couple of minutes had passed.

“It’s probably stupid,” said Clint, as a pre-warning that probably wasn’t necessary because a lot of what Clint said was stupid.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear it,” said Bucky.

“Yeah, okay,” said Clint. “It’s just what Sam said earlier, about communication. I can’t help thinking that we’ve never really talked about this, and that I’ve not really got any idea how the rest of you feel about it, or, I don’t know, how you see it. And you don’t know what I think either. But it’s stupid, because we’ve never needed to talk about it, not when it’s all been so easy.” He tipped his head back against Bucky’s shoulder so that he could see his face. “Maybe that’s it. It seems too easy, now I’ve thought about it. Four guys all in one relationship, with all the various issues we have, and yet it’s all just sort of...happened. Like it was meant to be.”

Bucky was silent for a while, one hand rubbing slowly over Clint’s shoulder. When he finally spoke, it was in a low, reluctant tone, as if he didn't want to face up to this either. “I don’t know. Might be a point there. I can think of things I worry about that I’ve never mentioned.”

Clint tried to turn around again, then gave up when Bucky's grip tightened to keep him in place. Instead, he clutched at Bucky’s hand, pulling it up to kiss his palm. “Oh man, me too. Fuck, Sam was right.”

Bucky snorted. “Well, we can’t let that continue. He’s annoying enough as it is. What’re you worrying about?”

Clint hesitated, but he was the one who’d opened this can of worms, he guessed it was only fair that he took the plunge first. “It’s stupid.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You’ve gotta stop saying that. It can’t be stupid if you’re worrying about it. Tell me.”

Clint let out a long breath and mentally braced himself. “So, my longest relationship before this was less than a year. I sucked at them. Things just always fell apart without me having a clue it was happening until the other person had walked away. As far as I’m concerned, this is all going great and I love… I love being with you all. I’m just scared that you don't feel the same, and I’m missing it, and I won’t know until you all walk away.”

“You’re not,” said Bucky, holding him tighter for a moment. “Trust me, I couldn't ever imagine walking away. Having this with three of the greatest guys I’ve ever known is the kind of awesome I could never picture for myself. I don't deserve any of-”

Clint wasn't going to let him finish that sentence. He twisted in Bucky's arms to shut him up with a kiss. “You deserve everything. The others would say exactly the same, you know they would.”

Bucky hesitated, then made a face. “You and Steve would,” he said. “If we're being honest and communicating and all that, then I don't reckon Tony woulda picked to include me in this.”

“Of course he would,” said Clint. “He has. Jesus, he spent twenty minutes begging for you to fuck him the other night.” It had been hot as hell watching as Bucky teased Tony right to the edge over and over again, fucking him with his fingers while Tony descended into a needy mess.

Bucky shook his head. “That's my arm, not me.” He held up his metal hand and did the flexing thing that made the plates all recalibrate. “We both know how he loves tech. Me, though…” He shrugged. “It seems like he just puts up with me for the sake of you and Steve.”

“No,” said Clint, kissing him again because he couldn't stand to see that quietly defeated look on Bucky’s face. “There’s no way.”

Bucky pressed his lips tightly together for a second, then it was like a dam had broken. “Me and him never spend time together, just the two of us. Me and you, we’ve got all the time we spend in the range and going out for shitty pizza-"

“It’s great pizza,” Clint put in automatically.

Bucky ignored him. “-and me and Steve go running and to baseball games and all that, but me and Tony… It’s only when my arm needs upkeep.” His mouth twisted unhappily. “Sometimes I pretend there's something wrong with it when it's fine just so I get to hang out with him.”

Aw man, this was heartbreaking. Clint hadn't wanted to actually be right about people keeping quiet about stuff when they should be communicating.

“You should ask him to do something,” said Clint. “Dinner or something?” 

Bucky shook his head. “I have, but he always has an excuse or misunderstands and asks you and Steve as well. I’ve kinda given up; I don't much like being rejected all the time. It's not like he doesn't have good reason not to want to be close to me.” He dropped his voice down low with guilt. “I did kill his parents.”

“He doesn't blame you for that,” said Clint. “He knows that was Hydra, not you.”

Bucky just shrugged. “Still my hands. Guess it makes it hard for him.”

Clint turned completely, moving to straddle Bucky’s lap. Bucky looked so sad and Clint couldn't stand it. He couldn't speak for Tony, but he could give Bucky something from himself.

“I love you.” Bucky’s eyes widened, but Clint had more to say. “I love Tony and Steve as well, and I love what we all have together, but even if we didn’t have that, I’d still love you just for you.”

“Clint,” said Bucky very softly, then pulled him down to kiss him, which felt like a pretty good response to Clint. It wasn’t until it began to calm that he realised how much his heart was thudding in his chest, as if telling the softest-hearted guy he knew that he loved him was the same as a combat situation.

“I love you too,” said Bucky once their lips had parted. “I don’t even know why I haven't said that before. I guess you were right about this communication thing.”

Clint beamed at him. Fuck, that sounded so good to hear. “Maybe I should try it on the others then.”

Bucky clutched tighter to him. “Don’t tell Tony what I said.”

“No,” agreed Clint. “You should be telling him that.”

“No way. I’m not messing about and making things awkward, not when it’ll end up pulling you and Steve in as well. What we’ve got is so close to perfect, why risk it?”

“Because it should be completely perfect,” said Clint.

Bucky just made a face and shook his head. “I’m not going to risk the balance we’ve got.”

Clint thought he was making a mistake, but it wasn't his decision so he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he leaned in to give him a long, slow kiss that he hoped made it clear that he had nothing to worry about on this side of things. Bucky seemed more than ready to go with that.

****

They went back to bed eventually, crawling into the spaces that Steve and Tony had left for them on either side as they cuddled together in the middle. In the morning, Steve woke up early and prodded Bucky awake to go for a run for him.

“Alright, alright, Stevie, I’m coming,” muttered Bucky with the same irritated tone he used every day, as if he wasn’t going to come back from the run with a grin on his face.

Clint blinked open his eyes to smile at him. _That guy loves me,_ he thought, remembering Bucky’s words last night, and a shiver of happiness went through him.

“You want to come?” asked Bucky, catching Clint’s look.

Clint snorted. “Hell no,” he said, turning to push his face into the pillow and draping an arm around Tony’s waist as he moved. “You know I don’t try and keep up with running super-soldiers unless there’s certain peril involved.”

“We could go half speed for you,” offered Steve, the jerk.

“Or get a tiger to come chase us?” added Bucky.

Clint snorted. “Nope. I’m gonna stay here and cuddle the sensible boyfriend who doesn’t think that getting up at the crack of dawn is a good idea.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever been called the sensible one before,” said Tony, who hadn’t even bothered opening his eyes for the debate.

Clint moved in closer to kiss his cheek. “I reckon you probably beat me nine days out of ten.”

“Debatable,” said Steve.

Clint lazily sent him a rude gesture, letting his eyes fall shut again.

He didn’t go back to sleep, although he thought Tony probably did. Instead, he lay there watching the way Tony unconsciously rested one hand on his arc reactor, and thought about the conversation last night. Clearing the air like that with Bucky had felt good, even if it had revealed a knot of issues between Tony and Bucky that he hadn’t realised were there. 

What had felt best had been coming clean about how he felt, and hearing Bucky do the same. It had left him with a burning desire to be able to do the same with Tony and Steve, even if he could still feel the fear that they wouldn’t feel the same and he’d end up making a fool of himself.

Better to have everyone know exactly where they stood rather than going on just assuming everything was fine.

“Mr. Stark, Miss Potts asked me to remind you that there’s a board meeting in an hour’s time,” said JARVIS, far more apologetically than Clint thought Pepper had intended.

Tony let out a groan and rolled across to press himself against Clint. “Nope. No way. You’re a superhero, make it go away.”

“I’m hardly super,” said Clint, snuggling in closer to him. “I think most people would say Iron Man was more ‘super’ than Hawkeye, you might need to do your own dirty work on this one.”

“I can’t,” said Tony. “Pepper would kill me.”

He blinked his eyes open, sleep weighing his eyelids down in a way that highlighted his long lashes. Clint couldn’t stop himself from leaning in to kiss him and when he pulled away, Tony was looking far more alert.

“Maybe it would be worth it to just stay here,” he said, shifting on top of Clint to give him a thorough kiss, nestling one of his legs between Clint’s.

Clint kissed him back, curling his arms around him and holding him close. _I should tell him,_ he thought, but now wasn’t the time if Tony really did have to rush off. “On the scale of one to ten,” he said, in between kisses, “just how mad is - Pepper going to be if you’re - late?”

Tony tipped his head back and frowned. “Seven?” he hazarded.

“Miss Potts has asked me to give you a second reminder, Sir,” said JARVIS.

“Eight?” amended Tony.

Clint took his hands away from Tony’s waist. “Too high,” he declared. “I only risk going above six if it’s life-or-death.”

Tony sighed. “Coward,” he muttered, then gave Clint a final kiss before flinging himself out of bed. “Will you at least share a shower with me?” he asked, glancing back over his shoulder as he headed for the bathroom. He gave a sway of his hips, as if he needed to give Clint any other enticement when he was wearing only boxers.

“Hell yeah,” said Clint, jumping up after him. “I mean, two people washing you can only speed things up, right?”

“Can’t see any flaw in that logic at all,” agreed Tony.

****

Somehow, they actually managed to get out of the bedroom with enough time for breakfast, if you counted one of Tony’s disgusting smoothies as breakfast. Sam and Rhodey were already in the kitchen, which at least meant that there was fresh coffee ready.

“Pour me one of those, would you?” ask Tony as Clint made a beeline for a coffee machine.

“Always,” said Clint. “What kind of a boyfriend do you take me for?”

Tony snorted. “As if we don’t all know that you prioritise coffee over almost everything.”

“‘Almost’ is the key word there,” Clint said, and then gave Tony the first cup out of the machine just to prove his point, even if it broke his heart a little.

Steve and Bucky arrived back from their run and grabbed breakfast for themselves, squeezing themselves in next to Tony and Clint despite the fact that the table wasn’t really designed for four guys on one side. Clint didn’t mind knocking elbows with Steve if it meant he was close enough to steal bits of fruit out of his granola.

“You’re gonna get stabbed,” said Bucky as Clint darted in for another bit of dried strawberry.

“Nah, maybe if it was you,” said Clint. “Besides, stabbed with what? His spoon?”

“Don’t underestimate the damage you can do with a spoon,” said Bucky.

“I once took down five Nazis with a spoon,” agreed Steve. Clint squinted at his face, trying to judge the truth of that, and got a bland smile in response.

“Bullshit,” he decided. Steve just waggled his eyebrows at him.

“Wasn’t that in one of the movies?” said Rhodey. “Hey, Tones, you know them all backwards and forwards, wasn’t there one where Cap took out a squad with cutlery?”

“ _America Finishes The Fight_ ,” said Tony. “But it wasn’t a spoon, it was a fish knife.” Everyone turned to stare at him and he shrugged. “You watch something enough when you’re a kid, you never forget the details,” he said defensively.

“What the hell was Captain America doing with a fish knife in the middle of World War Two?” asked Sam.

Steve cleared his throat, then put on his best ‘Captain America: Here To Save The Day’ expression, which involved squaring up his shoulders and jutting his chin out as if he were going to take a tank down with just the power of his jawline. Clint had to sway sideways to give him enough space. “America stands for life, liberty and having the right cutlery for each course, no matter what the circumstances.”

“I really don’t think it does,” said Rhodey. “I’m pretty sure they’d have mentioned it in basic training.”

Steve relaxed back down and Clint leaned into him again, pressing their shoulders together and then going in for another bit of fruit. Steve lightly tapped his knuckles with his spoon and he withdrew, defeated. Ah well, it had been a good run.

“Musta changed since our day then,” said Bucky. “First thing we covered was correct tableware etiquette.” He nudged Steve’s shoulders, causing a knock on effect like one of those desk toys with the balls that all tapped together. Tony, at the other end, nearly tipped off the end of the line, but managed to keep himself upright, with a glare back down to Bucky, who just grinned at him.

“Okay,” said Sam, “this is the thing I really don’t get about this...this,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the four of them. Clint felt Steve tense up next to him, and Bucky leaned forward to aim a glare at Sam.

“If you’ve got a problem, pal, then _we’re_ gonna have a problem,” he growled in his most terrifying ‘the Winter Soldier is going to fuck you up’ voice.

“Oh no, no problem,” said Sam. “You can all quit looking at me like you’re going to tear me apart. I just...you’re four guys, three of whom are pretty tall and have shoulders twice the width of normal guys, I just...logistically-speaking, how the hell did you all even fit in the same bed?”

Rhodey snorted. “Man, don’t think I haven’t been wondering the same thing,” he said. “I mean, I try not to think about Tony’s sexlife, god knows I’ve tried so hard over the years-”

“Appreciate it, buddy,” dropped in Tony.

“-but, even just, lying down next to each other, shoulders to shoulders, that’s got to take up some serious space.” He gestured at Steve’s impressive shoulder width and then vaguely at Bucky and Clint as well.

Tony pointedly cleared his throat. “You know, building your own machines bulks you up too. I’ve got blacksmith arms.”

“Sexy blacksmith arms,” agreed Clint, giving Tony’s bicep a caress through his shirt. Tony gave him a look that said he didn’t know if he was being teased or not, so Clint tipped him a wink.

Tony raised an eyebrow at him, then looked back at Sam. “Sexy blacksmith _billionaire_ arms,” he added. “Which means I can more than afford to buy my boyfriends a frankly alarmingly large bed, which was custom built to survive two super-soldiers and an acrobat getting up to all sorts on it, and had to be shipped here in two different vans. Two vans that the media then found out about, and decided there must be some kinda kinky attachments to justify that, which was just exactly what my reputation needed.”

“Who needs a kinky attachment when you’ve got Bucky’s arm?” asked Clint. Bucky snorted, then held out his hand for Clint to high five, which Clint leaned around Steve to do.

“Oh, too much information,” muttered Rhodey.

“Okay, all right, guess I didn’t factor the billionaire thing into it,” said Sam. “My bad.”

“Plus, we’ve all had a lot of practice snuggling up close together,” said Clint. “And, I mean, Tony’s so small he could probably just sleep stacked up on top of one of us.”

Tony huffed out a petulant breath and stood up. “I don’t have to listen to this,” he proclaimed, downing the last of his smoothie. “I’ve got many important people waiting for me, none of whom are gonna make disparaging remarks about my height.”

“Isn’t Pepper taller than you?” asked Rhodey.

Steve had the thoughtful frown that meant he was having a tactical genius moment. “Actually, maybe Tony should sleep on top of one of us. That way we could keep a hold on him so he wouldn’t creep off for any more late night drunken engineering.”

Tony turned sharply, jabbing a finger at him. “Don’t give me that, my late night drunken engineering has created breakthroughs that have become vital for the team. The last time, I upgraded all our comms.”

“Yeah,” agreed Clint, taking advantage of Tony’s empty seat to shift over and get some more elbow room. “And the time before that, you created a set of talking arrows.”

“What,” said Sam flatly, which was a fair reaction.

“Those were a gift from me to you, and you fucking love them,” said Tony, sulkily, grabbing up his suit jacket and throwing it on. “And now I really do have to go, because-”

“Miss Potts has asked me to give you a countdown if you’re not in the elevator in the next minute,” said JARVIS.

Tony jabbed a finger at the sky. “Right, because that. And also because I refuse to listen to this slander any more.”

“But mostly because you’re scared of Pepper,” said Rhodey, which earned him a glare as Tony stalked out. Clint took the chance to watch him go, because he was wearing one of his suits with the really well-cut trousers. Nice.

“No, I’m sorry,” said Sam. “I’m still stuck on talking arrows. What the fuck?”

“Okay,” said Clint, checking Tony’s mug in case he’d left any coffee behind. No such luck. He got up to put on another pot. “You know the little alien things from Toy Story? With the high-pitched squeaky voices?”

“Oh man, this gets better,” said Sam. “Tony made arrows like that?”

“Yep,” said Clint. “Imagine this. You’re in a combat situation, surrounded by hostiles. You reach for your ammo, and there’s a chorus of tiny cartoon voices all yelling, ‘Pick me! Pick me!’ Then when you fire one, it goes, ‘Wheee!!’ as it flies towards, you know, smashing its head to pieces on whatever you’re aiming at.”

“Wow,” said Sam. “That’s...unreal.”

“And they fucking love Clint,” added Bucky. “‘We love Hawkeye!’” he piped and it was a little unfair how good he was at imitating them. “‘We love you, Hawkeye, we love you!’”

Clint scrumpled a coffee filter into a ball and threw it at him. “You’re just jealous that none of your weaponry loves you.”

“Just cos it doesn’t say it doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel it,” said Bucky, then sent him a wink that flashed Clint back to their conversation the night before.

Clint rolled his eyes, but walked over to kiss Bucky before he sat back down with his new coffee. “Yeah, okay.”

“Besides, you love them back,” added Bucky. He looked at Sam. “There’s a target at the end of the range that’s so soft it’s basically cotton candy. Once a day, he goes down and fires them at it while they all squeal with excitement and tell him how awesome he is.”

Sam gave Clint a disbelieving look. Clint shrugged uncomfortably. “What? It’s not like I’m actually going to use them in combat, and they get all sad if they’re not used.”

Sam looked at Rhodey. “You were right,” he said. “This place really does have to be experienced to be believed.”

****

After breakfast, everything fell into their usual pattern and Clint found himself putting off making time to speak to Tony and Steve alone. He found himself having the same thought he’d had with Bucky last night as he and Steve ended a sparring match with a leisurely make out session on the mat, or he pulled Tony down into his lap as they prepared to put on _The Mummy Returns_. This whole thing felt so solid, why the hell did he think he needed to mess with that?

Except, just before he and Steve went to spar, Bucky asked Tony if he wanted to go out for coffee and Tony said he had to fix up the suit and disappeared to the workshop, and it was only after Clint had got Tony settled in his arms for the movie that he realised he’d been heading to curl up in the corner again and, shit, did he do that every time they ended up on the couch together? Try and keep his distance until they reeled him in?

They should definitely talk about that.

The next day, he waited until Tony had been in his workshop for just long enough to be a bit zen, but not so long that he was getting manic with exhaustion or so deep in an idea that he wouldn’t pay attention to anything else, then headed down there. Tony was hunched over part of his armour with a tiny welding torch and a faint frown, but he glanced up with a grin when Clint came in.

“Hey, my favourite archer,” he said. “Let me guess. You want an arrow that shoots glitter. Or, no, one that heat seeks, or, wait, wait, best plan, one that dumps a load of sand so you can put out a flame, hang on, let me…”

“Okay, all those sound great, especially the glitter one, because glitterbombing Hydra would definitely piss them off,” said Clint, “but I actually just came down here to hang out with you. Feels like I haven’t seen much of you recently.”

“You saw a lot of me in the shower yesterday,” said Tony, quirking an eyebrow, but he looked far more confused than Clint was okay with. “Where did Bucky and Steve head off to?”

Clint blinked at him. “Nowhere,” he said. “Or, at least, I don’t think they have. They were in the lounge, last I saw them.” Tony’s frown deepened, then cleared away when he realised Clint was watching. Too late, Clint had already seen it. “Hey, can’t I just come down here to hang out? Steve does all the time.”

“Steve comes down here to draw,” agreed Tony. “He’s less likely to get interrupted down here, and it’s not like there’s not plenty of still-life opportunities,” he said, waving around at the worktops cluttered with machinery and tools.

“Also, his boyfriend,” said Clint, finding a chair and dragging it over to the bench Tony was working at so he could watch. One of Tony’s robots (alright, so he hadn’t worked out which one was which yet, he was the dog guy, not the robot guy) rolled over to lightly tap his leg in greeting, and Clint patted its claw, hoping that worked as well as it would for a dog. The robot whirred and ducked his claw, which he hoped was a good sign. “You know that half his drawings are of you, right?”

Tony shrugged. “I guess I stay pretty still when I’m working on something delicate,” he said, bending over the suit again.

Clint frowned at the dismissive tone in his voice. That wasn’t right. “Also, you’re insanely hot,” he pointed out. “Especially when you’ve got that sexy mechanic thing going on, with your arms out and the artful smears of oil. Some of Steve’s drawings kinda look like pin-ups.”

Tony looked up and batted his eyes at him. “I should hope so, I have been up near the top of the Sexiest Men Alive lists for nearly two decades now.”

“Oh, who hasn’t been on those?” said Clint, waving a hand dismissively, as if he hadn’t been completely blown away the first time Natasha had taped his entry to his bedroom door with a note that said, _If only they knew what I knew_.

“Think we should warn Sam that he’ll probably end up on the next one?” asked Tony, doing something that made the machinery he was working on send out a sharp spark that he flinched away from.

“Careful,” said Clint, unable to stop himself and got a very dry look in response.

“Seriously? This from you?”

“Yeah, okay,” said Clint. “Still, try not to electrocute yourself, yeah? Seems like doing CPR around the arc reactor might be tricky.” He frowned. “Is that something we should be practicing, just in case?” 

“Nope,” said Tony. “I’m not gonna need CPR. I’m gonna live forever.” There was another spark and he twitched his fingers out of the way.

“Sure, okay,” said Clint. The robot nudged him again and then raised its claw to clack at him as if looking for attention. He gently patted it again. “I’m guessing you don’t want me telling Steve about this conversation, though.”

“Nope,” said Tony. “I can live without him ordering a CPR dummy with an arc reactor, thanks.”

“You sure?” asked Clint. “We could draw a fancy goatee on it?”

“Definitely not,” said Tony. The robot whirred and prodded Clint again, and Tony rolled his eyes. “You’re not being cute,” he told it. “You’re just being annoying. Leave the poor guy alone.”

The robot let out a sad whine and dropped its claw. “Nah, he’s fine,” said Clint, giving him another stroke. “Hey, want to play catch?”

The robot perked up immediately as Tony groaned. “Oh man, you’re going to destroy my workshop.”

“Oh sure,” said Clint, glancing around at the mess littering the place. “Gonna completely destroy every semblance of organisation in here.” He sorted through the crap nearest him until he found a baseball, then gently lobbed it towards the robot, which grabbed for it with its claw, then did a jerky dance when it caught it. Okay, maybe Clint was a robot guy as well as a dog guy, because that was pretty cute. “Good boy,” he said. “Here, bring it back and we’ll go again.”

The robot rolled back towards him and dropped the ball in his lap, then darted back across the room. A second robot casually rolled over, as if just wandering by. Clint raised an eyebrow at it. “You want to play as well?”

The robot had a definite moment of, ‘Who, me? Oh, I was just...well, if you insist,’ before rolling into position, claw open.

Tony let out a long sigh. “You’re spoiling them,” he muttered. “They’re meant to be workshop helpers, not pets.”

“They can be both,” said Clint, throwing the ball again. “It’s not like we can get an actual pet.” He glanced over at Tony. “Or maybe we could. I mean, there’s plenty of space for a dog, and usually someone around who’d be able to look after it, even when we’re on missions, and-”

“No,” said Tony, as the ball was dropped back in Clint’s lap. He pointed his welding torch at Clint to emphasise it. “Just, no. No pets. You’ve got the arrows, isn’t that enough?”

Clint gave him his best puppy eyes. “Aw, come on. Maybe not now, but I’ve always intended to get a dog when I retire, surely you’re not going to crush my boyhood dreams?”

“You can do what you want once you’ve retired and got your own place,” said Tony. 

It actually felt like a physical blow. Clint reeled back in his chair, ignoring the way the robots whined at the ball he had been about to throw. “What?”

Tony just blinked at him. “What?”

Clint took a deep breath, then chucked the ball to get the robots to leave him alone for a second. “You’re saying that you’re gonna kick me out if I retire?”

Tony stared at him, apparently only just realising what he’d said. “No. No! Course not, just, I assumed if you weren’t with the team, you know...”

“I’d, what? Stop wanting to live with my boyfriends?” asked Clint and, wow, this hurt more the longer he thought about it. “Because I only like you guys when we’re fighting together, and the rest of it, cuddling and sleeping together, and hanging out, that’s all just something I’d want to escape if I could?” A chilling thought struck him. “Jesus, please tell me you don’t think that because it’s something you want to escape, Tony-”

“No, no, no, of course not, don’t be stupid,” said Tony, turning off the welding torch with a jerk and dropping it on the workbench with less care that he probably should have. “I just meant, look. Retirement, that’s years away, right? Who the fuck knows where this thing will be by then? I never even figured we’d make it to six months, let alone nearly two years.”

“You think we’re going to fall apart?” asked Clint, trying to pull his heart back from trying to beat out of his chest.

Tony shook his head, then made a face. “Ah, crap,” he said quietly, then ran an oil-stained hand through his hair. “Okay, let’s be honest here, shall we? You and Steve and Bucky, sure, I can see that working out. You guys are all so solid. But we all know I’m only in this because of...not accident, no, that sounds wrong, maybe serendipity? Right place, right time, and you needed a guy who could engineer a cuddling sleeve, and then there was space on the sofa for a fourth so why not, hey? And then one thing becomes another and two years have passed. But we all know I’m not really meant to be part of this, not the same way the three of you are, and it’s probably getting time to face up to that and just, you know… let it be.”

Aw, fuck. This was so much worse than Clint had figured. He stood up, dropping the ball that had been put back in his lap unnoticed during Tony’s speech, then circled around the workbench to wrap Tony up in the biggest hug he could manage. He might not be Sergeant Snuggles or Captain America but he’d spent two years learning from them both, and he reckoned he could manage a pretty good hug now. He just hoped it would get across to Tony everything he needed to say.

Actually, no, communication, right? Time to use his words. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he said, and felt Tony twitch with indignation in his arms. He held on tighter in response. “Seriously, Tony, we all want you in this.”

Tony huffed out a disbelieving breath against his shoulder. “Sure, okay,” he said, sounding tired. “We’ll go with that, for now.”

“No, nope, no ‘for now’,” said Clint, pulling away so he could look Tony in the eyes. “I mean, I don’t go staring at the future and analysing every tiny consequence to see where we’re going or whatever it is you do, Mr Futurist, but I do know what I’ve got, and how I want things to stay.”

Tony still didn’t look convinced, so Clint gave up on words, because it wasn’t as if Tony ever saw them as anything other than a challenge to a debate, and kissed him. He tried to put everything about how he felt about him into it, thinking of every moment of blinding affection that he’d ever had for this guy, then pulled away from his mouth just far enough to say the only words he hoped Tony would actually listen to, “I love you.”

Tony jerked like he had been electrocuted, pushing Clint away and taking two rapid steps back. “Don’t say that,” he said. “Okay, okay, I get it, you want me around, but don’t-”

“Don’t what?” interrupted Clint. “Tell you the truth?

Tony snorted, bitterly. “The opposite,” he said. “I’ve been honest with you about all this, the least you could do is be the same. We can go back to pretending that everything is perfect pink rose petals of snuggling and epic sex later, but let’s just keep things in reality for now, yeah?”

Clint frowned. “You think that’s not real?” he said, because he knew exactly what Tony meant by that, he meant that perfect feeling of affection and contentment that descended around the four of them like a bubble when they were all snuggled up, or working out new and exciting ways to link their bodies together, or even when they were all out together, laughing at something stupid that involved too many layers of in-jokes to ever explain to anyone else.

“Nothing that feels that good is real,” said Tony.

“Of course it is,” said Clint. “Tony, come on,” he stepped forward but Tony stepped away again, keeping his hands up like Clint was going to attack him or something. Jesus, how was a genius so damn stupid? 

“Okay,” said Clint, stopping still and forcing himself to take a deep breath. “Okay, how about this? Name one damn time I’ve ever done or said anything that makes you think that’s not real. That I don’t love you. Because I’m not letting you tell me my feelings aren’t what they are unless you’ve got actual evidence. That’s how science works, right?”

“That’s not-” said Tony, then shook his head. “Yes, okay, fine, let’s pretend that’s ‘how science works’, that’s a discussion we can have later, before I go cry about the failure of scientific education in our high schools-”

“I didn’t go to high school,” Clint pointed out. “Quit stalling. Either give me evidence that I’m lying, or shut up and believe me when I say I love you.”

“Fine,” said Tony, and at least he’d gone out of bitterness into antagonism, because Clint could handle him like this. He was more likely to actually consider what someone else was saying in a debate than if he was only listening to the voices inside himself. “Evidence. Well, how about…” he trailed off.

Clint waited.

Tony frowned, then twitched and turned away, running his hands through his hair. “Doesn’t mean anything,” he muttered.

“It means everything,” said Clint. “I love you, Tony. I love Bucky, and I love Steve, and I love this thing we’ve built, all _four_ of us, and it- it wouldn’t be close to the same without you. Please don’t go thinking it would be. I want to be living here with all of you guys, for long after my retirement.”

Tony ran a hand over his head, then slowly turned around. He looked at Clint for a long moment, before his mouth twisted. “Ah, fuck it,” he muttered, and strode back over to wrap Clint up in an embrace and a heated, heavy kiss. Clint was more than happy to sink into it.

“Okay,” said Tony quietly, once he’d pulled away from Clint’s mouth and pushed his face into Clint’s shoulder instead. His beard was scratchy against Clint’s neck. “Okay, fine. I give in, you mean it. I’m just gonna hold on here for a moment and, you know. Process.”

He sounded a bit wobbly and he was clinging on to Clint’s shirt with tight fists. Clint glanced over at where the bots had rolled back into the corner, knocking the ball between each other with a resigned attitude.

“You can hold on a lot longer than a moment,” he said. “In fact, hold on…” He changed his grip on Tony enough to lift him up, holding him close as he backed towards the sofa in the corner.

“I’m never sure if I should be turned on or vaguely insulted that you guys are all able to pick me up so easily,” said Tony, shifting to grip on tighter.

Clint snorted. “I wouldn’t say it was _easy_. You’re packing a lot of muscle for a little guy.”

Tony made an offended noise and poked a finger into Clint’s side, which made him flinch and almost drop him. “Watch it,” he said as he settled them both down on the sofa, stretching out on it and pulling Tony on top, where he could hold him close and feel the weight of his body sprawled out over his.

Tony wriggled until he was wrapped around him like a limpet, still clinging on as if Clint had any intention of leaving. Clint ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the mixed tackiness of his hair gel and whatever oil he’d ended up rubbing in it while working. Okay, this seemed bad, but at least he knew about it now. That meant he could work on making sure Tony knew just how loved he was, and how important he was to all three of them.

They stayed like that for a couple of long minutes, then Tony suddenly jolted and raised his head up. “You’re not going to tell the others I had an emotional meltdown like this.”

“No,” agreed Clint, leaning up just far enough to graze a kiss against his lips. Tony nodded and lowered his head back down.

“And, uh. Me too,” he muttered into Clint’s collar bone. “You know. I feel the same.”

It took Clint a moment to realise what he meant, then his heart lit up with joy and he couldn’t stop himself from starting to snigger. “Seriously? That’s it? Your best attempt at an emotional confession?”

Tony dug fingers into his sides, making Clint squirm and then hang on to Tony tighter so that he didn’t knock him off. “Everyone’s a critic,” he said. “You know, if you want some kinda proper over-the-top declaration, I could set something up, flowers and fireworks and, I don’t know, a giant cuddly toy of some kind, you like dogs, right? Holding a heart, and it says ‘I wuv you’ when you squeeze it, and-”

“No, no, no,” said Clint, trying to shut him up, “that’s all fine, don’t need any of that shit, you’re good. Oh, hey, we should work something out for our anniversary though, because you know Bucky and Steve will have some stupidly romantic 1940s-smooth-guys plan already.”

Tony groaned. “How the hell did we end up going out with two guys who are so much better than us at this?”

“Sheer luck?” suggested Clint. He stroked Tony’s hair again as Tony made a grumbling noise then pressed a kiss to Clint’s neck. He followed it up with another, ever softer, and Clint couldn’t keep in his smile as he tipped his head back further to give him better access. “Not sure they are all that better, though,” he added, “I mean, at the anniversaries and shit, maybe, but none of us seem to be doing so well at this communication stuff.”

Tony left one last lingering kiss just behind Clint’s ear, then raised his head to look down at him. “What do you mean?”

Clint shrugged as well as he could while trapped under the full weight of a genius. “Just, what Sam said the other day got me thinking about communication, and how we don’t much seem to actually talk about this shit. Bucky and I were both awake last night, so I mentioned it to him, and-” he hesitated, because he’d promised he wouldn’t say anything, but he didn’t think pretending everything was perfect was a good idea either. Instead, he shrugged. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “Maybe this bubble has been a fantasy. I just don’t think that continuing to pretend it’s all perfect is getting us anywhere. If we’ve got issues or whatever, we should at least talk about them. Right?”

Tony made a deeply unhappy noise, then sighed. “Yeah, okay, that, disgustingly, makes sense.” He frowned deeper. “What did Bucky say, then?”

Clint pressed his lips together, then shook his head. “Promised I wouldn’t say.” 

“Because communication,” said Tony, raising an eyebrow.

Clint rolled his eyes. “Hey, what two guys say to each other in the middle of the night, or the middle of a workshop, is just between them, right?”

“Yeah, okay, fair enough,” said Tony, pressing in to kiss Clint again. “And if they do more than talk…?” 

Clint grinned at the look on his face, sliding his hands down to cup Tony’s ass. “I guess that’s also a private matter,” he agreed. Tony let his legs spread either side of Clint’s hips, knees digging into the couch cushion as he pressed them closer together.

“I’m the last person Bucky would want to know about his secrets, anyway,” said Tony as a casual, throwaway comment and, damnit, Clint had been so ready to just have some mid-afternoon, this-couch-really-is-too-small, but-I-just-said-I-love-you-so-fuck-it, workshop sex, but he couldn’t let that go.

Tony curled in close to kiss him, hot and heady, and it took everything Clint had to push him away. “Hang on, hang on,” he said. “I can’t- What the hell do you mean by that? Bucky’s your boyfriend, he trusts you with a ton of secrets.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I mean, sure. If I happen to be around when he’s telling them to you or Steve, but-” He broke off, probably at the look on Clint’s face. “Ah, crap,” he muttered, and sat up, back against Clint’s legs. “I ruined the mood.”

Clint rubbed his hands over Tony’s thighs. “I think you just tipped us back to an earlier mood,” he said, thinking of Tony’s little speech about being the guy on the outside. “You really think Bucky would have gone two years in a relationship with you if he didn’t want to be? After all that work he’s done on getting to make his own choices?”

Tony shrugged. “It’s not like we’ve really bonded much. I mean, outside of all the stuff we do as a group. Seems like we don’t have a lot in common.”

Fuck, that was basically what Bucky had said. How had Clint not noticed that two of his boyfriends didn’t hang out together?

Clint stared up at the workshop ceiling, thinking through the last two years. “He loves your robots,” he said. “He can tell them all apart, which is more than I can.” There was a sad little whine from the corner and he glanced over to see one of them hanging its claw like a kicked puppy. “Uh, not that I’m not trying,” he said. “Obviously all your bots are great, and I totally should spend more time with them.” The claw raised up a little, which was probably the best he could do on that front for now. “Bucky’s always talking about the latest gadget you’ve created, he’s kind of a tech geek. That’s definitely not something me and Steve share.”

“Okay,” said Tony, “I guess-”

Clint wasn’t stopping there. “And when we go out for food, you and Bucky are the ones who get all excited about gourmet whatever. I don’t care as long as there’s pizza, and Steve just wants there to be enough calories that he doesn’t have to make a sandwich when he gets back, but you and Bucky get all over-excited about flavours and cooking techniques and that shit.”

“You and Bucky go out for pizza together all the time,” Tony pointed out.

“Yeah,” agreed Clint. “We’re working our way through every pizzeria in Manhattan, and at most of them Bucky has in-depth thinky-thoughts about the balance of flavours and textures, or whatever, and I’m just licking my plate clean and maybe having an opinion on the amount of cheese. You and him, you’ve got stuff in common, you’ve just never bothered exploring that.”

Tony opened his mouth as if to say something, then shut it and frowned.

“So, maybe you should try actually hanging out with him, then come back and tell me you haven’t bonded,” finished Clint.

Tony huffed a breath. “Yeah, okay, fine.” He leaned down to kiss Clint, then wriggled his ass against Clint’s erection. “Can we maybe get back to this now?”

Clint only had so much willpower when he had a hot guy pressed against him. “Yeah,” he said, and pulled Tony down for another kiss.

****

The thing about Tony was that once he had an idea in his head, he didn’t waste any time implementing it. Clint and Bucky had been sparing in the gym and came back up to the main floor in the elevator to find Tony camped on their sofa with a tablet in one hand and Squishy McSoftbean propped at his feet. He looked up at them, then narrowed his gaze in on Bucky.

“Hey, Illya Kuryakin, how do you fancy some decent Russian food tonight?”

Bucky hesitated. “How decent?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You think I’d offer you borscht? Come on, give me some credit. There’s a new Russian restaurant opened by some hotshot chef, and I keep getting told it I need to try it. You up for it?”

Clint was looking right at Bucky, so he saw the split-second of disbelief cross his face before he schooled himself into a neutral expression. “Sure, sounds good.”

Tony nodded to himself. “Okay, awesome, J, make a reservation for 8, yeah?” He jumped up off the sofa and headed for the elevator. “We’ll need to leave at about 7.30, I’ll meet you back here.”

He disappeared while Bucky was still staring after him. He looked back at Clint, who shrugged at him.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “You said something to him.”

“Nope,” said Clint, immediately. “Well, not about what you said, me and him had our own little bout of communication that he made me promise not to tell you or Steve about. Because that’s how this thing works, apparently.”

Bucky glanced back over at where Tony had gone and took a deep breath. “Okay, fine. Guess I’ve got a date tonight then.” 

“You should say something to him during it,” said Clint. “Or at least tell him how you feel about him. Trust me when I say you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Bucky made a very unhappy face but nodded and Clint let himself relax. That was as good as fixed then, good work, Hawkeye.

Bucky glanced down at his work out clothes. “Shit, I need to get changed,” he said, and disappeared off towards their room.

Clint tried very hard not to snigger to himself and went to get himself some coffee as a reward for a job well done.

He made sure he was in the lounge at seven thirty, playing a computer game with his feet resting in Steve’s lap as he frowned at some SHIELD briefing information he’d been sent. Tony swept in wearing one of his fanciest suits and Clint paused the game to give him a wolf whistle.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, thanks, Barton, your suit kink is well documented.”

“It’s pretty much just you in suits,” said Clint which, of course, was when Bucky wandered in wearing one of his suits. “Oh fuck, that’s hot, Steve, look how hot our boyfriends are.” He nudged Steve with his toes.

“I am,” said Steve, looking over at them. “Tell me again why I’m getting stuck with the one wearing coffee-stained sweatpants tonight?”

Tony hesitated, glancing at Bucky. “You guys are welcome to come along, you know, J could get the reservation amended for four.”

“Nope,” said Clint. “You’re not allowed to eat fancy Russian food in sweatpants, Natasha is very firm on that, and there’s no way I’m putting on proper clothes again today.” There was also no way he was going to horn in when Bucky was sending him a glare with that much heat behind it.

“Sorry, I’ve got a conference call in a bit,” said Steve. “A bunch of global intelligence agencies are going to try and tell us how to do our jobs.”

“If you get through it without calling any spy directors idiots, I’ll give you a blowjob,” offered Clint.

“Win-win situation, then,” said Tony, “because if you do call them idiots, _I’ll_ give you a blowjob.”

“I think I’m working out why all the official types think you’re a bad influence on Steve,” said Bucky.

Tony sent him a wink. “Like you haven’t been a bad influence on him for far longer.”

Bucky considered that. “Yeah, okay, good point. And everyone knows Clint’s a terrible influence on everyone around him-”

“Hey!” protested Clint, but was ignored.

“-so, really, we’re all dragging Steve down.”

“And yet, I’m strangely okay with that,” said Steve, patting at Clint’s ankle. “Shouldn’t you guys be going?”

“Yep,” said Tony, sliding on a pair of his ridiculous sunglasses and then holding his arm out to Bucky. “C’mon, I’ve got the limo waiting so we can make out on the way. Mess up our suits a bit.”

Clint pictured that for a beautiful moment. “Maybe I’ll come along just for that part.”

“Nah,” said Bucky, putting a hand at the small of Tony’s back as he followed him into the elevator. “You’ve got to be here to reward Steve, right?”

“Fine, then send us pics!” called Clint as the doors closed on the elevator, then turned back to grin at Steve. “Oh no, forced to stay behind and blow Captain America, how will I cope?” 

Steve grinned back, but there was a weird edge to it. After the last couple of days of finding out that two of his boyfriends had been hiding stuff from him, Clint was immediately on high alert. “What? Steve, is something up?”

The look immediately disappeared and Steve shook his head. “No, just got a lot of reading before the conference call.”

Clint stared at him. “Okay, you know that wasn’t even a little bit convincing, right?”

Steve looked startled, as if he hadn’t expected to be called on his bullshit, and looked back down at his briefing papers. “I’ve only got twenty minutes,” he said, which wasn’t an answer at all.

“Okay, we’ll talk about it after, then,” said Clint, turning back to his computer game.

Steve huffed out a sigh. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he muttered.

The thing about Steve was that he was unbelievably stubborn. If you tried to come at him head on with something like this, he’d just dig in his heels and you’d never get anywhere. You had to be sneaky; strategise.

“Okay,” said Clint, easily. “Maybe I’ll just give you that blowjob, then.” He turned off his computer game and stood up. “I’ll be in the range, let me know when you’re done.” 

He kissed Steve goodbye, and headed down to the range. He did all his best thinking when he was shooting, and trying to work out a way around Steve’s bullheadedness was definitely going to require a lot of thinking.

There was a ping from his phone on the way down, and he pulled it out to reveal a selfie from Tony. He and Bucky were in the back of the limo and Clint could see that Tony had already lost his tie. He was winking up at the camera, head thrown back to give Bucky access to kiss his neck.

“Aw, not fair,” he muttered to himself.

Well, at least they seemed to be getting on, although he couldn’t help remembering what Bucky had said about sex being just sex. Hopefully they’d find the time to actually talk and bond or whatever, and not just fuck in the back of the limo all evening.

When he got to the range, he opened the locker he kept his equipment in and was met by a chorus of excited squeals.

“Hawkeye!”

“We love you, Hawkeye!”

“Please shoot us, Hawkeye!”

Right, he hadn’t played with the arrows Tony had made for him today. That wouldn’t do, they got all sad if he left it too long. He grabbed the quiver they were in and they all let out excited shouts of joy. He also grabbed the bow he’d had specially made for using with them, with about half the draw weight of his other bows because he didn’t want to put too much force into shooting them in case he ended up hurting them.

Yes, he knew how ridiculous that was, he’d accepted and moved on.

He spent nearly an hour shooting the arrows, to their complete delight. It gave him the chance he needed to work out a strategy for coming at Steve from an angle, rather than just trying to get him to talk from straight on. That had worked with Bucky, and sort of worked with Tony, but there was no way Steve would just change his mind on talking about something he’d decided to keep quiet about.

“Wheeee!” called out Lincoln as he sped towards the target, and yes, Clint had given all his talking arrows names, he wasn’t a _monster_. 

He reached back for another arrow and they all called out, “Me next! My turn!” as he didn’t know exactly whose turn it was next. He sent Errol flying after Lincoln, but his mind was still mostly on Steve and he didn’t stop to think that maybe he was aiming a little too close.

Errol clipped the edge of Lincoln’s fletching as he landed next to him, and Lincoln let out a tiny, heartbreaking, “Oh no!”

Clint immediately rushed over to check. Shit, he’d damaged him. “Oh man, I’m so sorry,” he said, stroking his fingers over Lincoln’s shaft.

“Will I still be able to fly?” asked Lincoln, and how the hell did an arrow manage to sound like it was on the verge of tears?

“Of course you will,” said Clint, pulling Errol free and tucking him back in the quiver. “I’m just going to give you a patch up and then you’ll be good as new, okay?”

“Okay,” said Lincoln, still sounding a bit sniffly. “I love you, Hawkeye.”

“Love you too,” said Clint, pulling him free as carefully as he could and inspecting the damage. “Okay, we’re going upstairs to fix this.”

“Can we come?” asked Errol, from his quiver. He sounded a bit hesitant, and Clint wondered if he was upset that he’d damaged Lincoln, or if he was giving them all too much credit.

“Yes!” cried Kevin. “We all go!”

“Yes!”

“Please!”

“Okay, okay,” said Clint. “You can all come.” There was a loud cheer.

“We love you, Hawkeye!”

“I know you do,” he said, setting his bow back in the locker and then heading upstairs with Lincoln cradled in one hand.

****

When Steve came into the lounge after finishing his call, Clint had all the arrows spread out on the table so that they could watch the repair he was doing on Lincoln.

“Cap!” called Will, “it’s Cap!”

There was a cheer from the others.

“We like Cap!” announced Tuck.

Steve stared at them with a blank look that said he hadn’t been prepared for this level of excitement. “Uh, hi guys,” he said, awkwardly. “How’s it going?”

“Hawkeye’s fixing me,” said Lincoln. “Errol hurt me.”

“I didn’t mean to!” said Errol, sounding distressed.

“I know, hey, totally my fault,” said Clint. “Don’t go blaming each other. I should have been more careful.” He looked over at Steve, taking in just how stressed he looked. “How did the call go? Were they as annoying as you feared?”

“More,” said Steve with a sigh, coming to sit next to Clint.

“And?” prompted Clint, then added, “Are you getting a blowjob from me or Tony?” when Steve just looked at him blankly.

Steve’s eyes widened and he glanced at the arrows and then, oh yeah, he actually went faintly pink. Clint started laughing so hard he had to put Lincoln down to avoid damaging him further.

“Oh my god, are you seriously worried about talking about sex in front of the arrows?”

“No!” protested Steve, “just...come on, Clint. They sound like little kids, are you really okay with talking about this in front of them?”

Clint raised an eyebrow. “Dude, you don’t even want to know what me and Bucky have got up to in front of them.”

Steve winced and rubbed a hand over his face. “Christ, Clint, seriously?”

Clint picked Lincoln back up. “Please, like you and Tony never got NC-17 in front of Tony’s bots. We all know what goes on in the workshop when you’re down there ‘sketching’. Besides, you guys don’t mind, do you?”

“We like Bucky,” said Cary.

“Sometimes he shoots with us,” added Kevin.

“But Hawkeye is best,” said Marian, prompting the usual chorus of cheers and ‘we love Hawkeye’s. Clint saw Steve wince slightly and figured that maybe a chorus of high-pitched voices was not what you wanted after an hour-long international conference call.

“Okay, you’re all fixed up,” he said to Lincoln. “Come on guys, time to go in the quiver and back to the range.”

“Aw,” said Sherwood, sounding heartbroken. “I didn’t get my last go at being shot.”

“I’ll shoot you twice next time,” promised Clint, carefully tucking them all back away in the quiver.

“Okay,” said Sherwood, still kind of sad. “Do you love me?”

“Of course I do,” said Clint. “I love all of you.”

“We love you too, Hawkeye!” said Loxley, and yep, there was another shrill chorus of them all telling him how much they loved him. They really were kinda needy about being told they were loved.

Huh, he wondered if that had anything to do with Tony’s fears that the others didn’t care about him as much as they cared about each other. How many of Tony’s inner demons did he accidentally end up projecting onto the AIs he created?

Something to think about later, Clint thought as he stood up and slung the quiver over his shoulder. “Bedtime, guys.”

“Okay, but you’re saying you don’t think of them as kids?” said Steve, raising an eyebrow at him.

Clint rolled his eyes and leaned over to kiss him. “Don’t worry, I’ll put them away before I give you that blowjob.” A thought occurred to him. “Hey, did you get that photo from Tony?”

“Yeah,” said Steve. “Right before the call started, which he must have known, the asshole.”

Clint grinned at him and waggled his eyebrows. “Want to send him some payback, then?”

“Definitely,” said Steve. He frowned with the intense concentration he usually brought to a complex tactical problem. “I think I know just how to frame it.”

“I’ll meet you in the bedroom, then,” said Clint, winking at him before heading downstairs.

His plan to get Steve to open up could wait until afterwards. Post-coital was always a good time for heart-to-hearts, anyway.

****

Clint didn’t actually get to see the photo Steve sent to Tony and Bucky, because he was otherwise occupied at the time, but from the pleased noise Steve made as he sent it, it must have come out pretty well. A moment later, he’d cast aside his phone and sunk his hand into Clint’s hair, which was good for Clint’s ego. He wasn’t sure he like the idea of someone being able to multitask while he sucked their cock.

Afterwards, they cuddled together in the centre of the bed that always felt far too empty when there were only two of them in it, Clint’s head lying on Steve’s chest as Steve ran his fingers through his hair. This was Clint’s chance to actually talk to him, while they were both floating in a happy, relaxed state and he might actually get somewhere without Steve shutting down on him. 

“Hey, can we talk, or are you falling asleep?” he asked, lifting his head to look at Steve’s relaxed face.

Steve opened his eyes. “I told you earlier, there’s nothing to talk about.”

Clint settled back down against him, because it was going to be easier to have this talk if he didn’t have to look Steve in the eye. Just like it had been easier talking to Bucky wrapped up in his arms with his back to him. “Maybe there’s nothing for you to talk about,” he said, “but I kinda want to get something off my chest. Maybe see if you’ve got any advice. You’re a lot better at figuring stuff out than I am.”

“Depends what kind of stuff,” said Steve, and there was that sad note again. Okay, Clint was going to fix this. He’d got Tony and Bucky sorted, he could deal with a sad Captain America, right?

“Emotions stuff,” said Clint. “It’s…” Ah fuck, and this was where he needed to come clean and let his own issues out into the light. Why did that always feel so difficult? Especially as he’d already said most of this to Bucky.

“Hey,” said Steve, rolling them over so that he was wrapped around Clint, hovering over him where he could press a kiss to his lips. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you, okay?”

Clint nodded, then took a deep breath, let his eyes focus past Steve to the place on the wall where Steve had once pushed Bucky back against it with enough force to dent it, and which Tony had refused to get fixed because, ‘I want to be reminded of how unbelievably hot that was every single time I look at that dent’.

“So, I’m kinda scared this thing is going to fall apart because none of us seem to be any good at actually talking to each other about the shit we’re thinking and feeling,” he said in a bit of a rush. “And that would suck, because this is, hands down, pretty much the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“That’s not going to happen,” said Steve, and kissed him again. “We won’t let it,” he added, with that stubborn note that usually meant he was going to get into a fistfight with a ten-foot-tall super-alien.

Clint snorted. “I’ve had chats with both Bucky and Tony over the last couple of days that have revealed they both have stuff they’ve been quietly worrying about but not saying, you’ve clearly got something you’re not saying, it’s been nearly two years and I can only think of one actual conversation we’ve had about this relationship, and that was the first one so who the fuck knows what any of us want from it any more? Where do we want it to go? Tony thought I’d move out if I retired and never even bothered to ask me what I wanted, how the fuck can you say we won’t let it fall apart when none of us are doing anything to stop it?”

Aw tears, no.

He took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing the emotions away as much as he could. Shit, this was why he had been pretending everything was fine without words for so long. He hated getting emotional like this.

“Clint,” said Steve softly, and kissed him again. He sounded like he had no idea what else to say, so Clint forced his eyes open and fixed on the lost look on his face. 

“I love you,” he said, and for some reason it felt a lot easier to say than it had to Tony and Bucky. Maybe third time was the charm. “I love you, Steve, and I love Tony and I love Bucky and I’m so terrified that I’m going to lose this.” He gripped tighter at Steve’s shoulders. “Please, you’ve got to help me figure out how to get everyone to actually talk and communicate and whatever else shit people in successful relationships do.”

Steve stared at him for a moment, then gave a bitter snort. “How the hell do you think I know how to do that? I’m good at fighting bad guys, not relationships.”

“Fuck,” said Clint. “Me too. And, shit, I don’t think Tony is going to be any better, do you think Bucky…?”

Steve was already shaking his head. “Not a hope. I reckon if any of us were good at this, we wouldn’t be nearly two years in without a clue.” He kissed Clint again, slow but with an edge of desperation that meant Clint had definitely been right, and there was something going on beneath the surface with him. “I love you, too,” he said, and Clint let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding in. “I guess we’ve got to hope that will be enough.”

Fuck that. “The longest relationship I was in before this was ten months,” said Clint. “She was another agent at SHIELD, and she was great. Tough, funny, totally able to put up with my bullshit. I thought that was it, that we were going to be in it for the long-haul. When she broke up with me it came completely out-of-the-blue, but she talked about it like we’d both known it was inevitable. Said I was closed book, that I never shared anything and she had no idea what was going on with me. None of the feelings I had for her were enough to keep us together when I didn’t talk to her.”

“She was an idiot,” said Steve, fiercely, and kissed him again. “That’s not going to happen with us.”

“I really don’t want it to,” said Clint. He pressed his face into Steve’s neck and took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the familiar smell of his skin. “I don’t know how to actually talk about this shit, and I know you guys don’t either, but I think we should all start trying to learn. If we fall apart, it’s going to be so much messier than it was with Bobbi.”

Steve let out a long sigh, pulling Clint in tight and forgetting his own strength for a moment so that Clint’s ribs were constrained. He didn’t say anything though, just let Steve cling on until he’d relaxed enough for Clint to breathe.

“I won’t let us fall apart,” he said, with that stubborn note in his voice again.

Clint lifted his head to kiss him, a surge of love going through him for the way Steve was always so ready to just bullheadedly force his way through anything. “Then we’re gonna need a plan on how to get everyone communicating properly,” he said.

Steve took a careful, slow breath. “Yeah, okay,” he said, and there it was. How to get Steve Rogers to surrender without a fight. 

Clint gave him a very long, slow kiss as a reward, stroking his hands down Steve’s back to his hips. “So, are you gonna tell me what’s up?”

Steve hesitated for a second, then shook his head. “Seems like talking in pairs is only going to make the problem worse,” he said. “We all need to be in on the conversation. Get everything out in the open air. You said Tony and Bucky both had things they weren’t saying. Don’t you think it would be better if they told everyone and not just you?”

Damn, Clint had maybe gone a bit too far on this one. Although, Steve made a good point. “Frankly, I’m kinda hoping they’ll talk to each other tonight,” he said. “Although, I guess that might be too much to hope for.”

Steve frowned. “What did they tell you?”

Clint shrugged helplessly. “That they didn’t want me telling anyone else. Yeah, I know,” he added in response to Steve’s expression about that. “I guess you’re right, it does need to be all four of us talking. I definitely don’t want to be the guy carrying around everyone else’s secrets, that fucking sucks, and I’m, like, the worse guy for confiding in as well. What the hell advice am I able to give?”

“Are you kidding?” asked Steve, and Clint gave him a shrug, because he really wasn’t. Steve shook his head. “You’re kinda the best person to talk to,” he said, “and you’re the only one actually doing something to solve this.” He pressed a kiss to Clint’s lips, so quick that Clint missed his chance to react. “Agent Aw No,” he said, more fondness seeping into his voice than Clint had really been prepared for.

“I haven’t done that much,” he said, shifting as if he had a hope of getting out from the way Steve was holding him close and giving him an affectionate little smile. It made something shift awkwardly under his skin, because he could cope with sorting out Bucky’s issues with Tony, or Tony’s issues with, well, apparently everyone, but being the sole focus of that much affection from Steve made him feel as if he were in the wrong place.

 _You don’t deserve this,_ whispered the little voice in the back of his head that always seemed to have too much control over his thoughts.

“I love you,” said Steve, as if he could see right into Clint’s heart and knew exactly what to say to make everything both so much worse and infinitely better. “I’m sorry I didn’t say before but you’re right. We’re all spending too much time buttoning our lips on the important stuff. Time to just let it out.” He kissed Clint again. “I love you, Clint Barton.”

“I love you too, Steve Rogers,” Clint managed, then pulled him into a longer and much more thorough kiss before he could say anything else.

There was a buzz from Steve’s phone, followed by a couple more in quick succession.

“Sounds like Tony finally looked at his phone,” said Steve, pulling away from Clint to grab it, and then angling the screen so Clint could see as well.

The photo he’d taken was beautifully framed, just enough to show exactly what was going on without being explicit about it. Clint’s arm was draped over Steve’s thigh and around his hip, and the shadow of his hair was in the corner, blocking the view of anything too pornographic. There were replies from both Tony and Bucky underneath.

 **Tony:** _Damn, our archer has some fine arms._  
**Bucky:** _I see you solved the problem of being left with the boyfriend wearing coffee-stained sweatpants by getting him out of them._  
**Bucky:** _I’m guessing this means you managed not to lose it at the suits. Congrats._  
**Tony:** _If I’m not going to be sucking you off, guess I’ll have to suck off our other super-soldier._

Clint snorted. “Here’s hoping he doesn’t decide to do that in the restaurant.”

“Even Tony’s not that reckless with our public image,” said Steve, but he didn’t sound entirely sure.

Clint took the phone from him and scrolled back up to the photo. “That’s a nice shot,” he said, admiringly. “You’ve got such a great eye for artistic stuff.”

Steve took the phone back and tossed it on the bed. “Not hard when the subject is as photogenic as you are.”

Clint grinned at him. “Ah, flattery will get you everywhere,” he said, pulling him down into a kiss.

****

It was very late when Tony and Bucky finally made it back. Clint was already most of the way asleep, arm draped across Steve who he was pretty sure was actually asleep, although he woke up when Tony and Bucky came in.

“Have a good time?” Clint asked, blinking over at Bucky.

Bucky gave him a grin so contented that Clint felt his heart glow. Oh man, please let this have sorted out Bucky’s fear that Tony didn’t really want him, he couldn’t cope with one of his guys being sad like that. 

“I guess you could say that,” said Bucky, starting to get undressed. Clint woke up a bit more so that he could watch properly.

“Good times were definitely had,” said Tony, loosening his tie and, yeah, Clint was definitely here for watching two of his boyfriends strip. “Multiple good times, in fact.” He had the pleased, relaxed look that meant he’d had a really great orgasm in the last half an hour.

“Yeah, same here,” said Clint, rolling just enough to kiss Steve’s shoulder.

Steve let out a little sigh. “You know, most people don’t judge how good an evening was from the number of orgasms.”

“Most people have sad, miserable, trainwreck lives,” said Tony over his shoulder as he headed into the bathroom.

Clint raised his head to give Steve a hurt look. “Are you saying you didn’t have enough?”

Steve rolled his eyes but gave him a reassuring kiss. “Don’t act like you don’t know I had a great evening by anyone’s standards. Even Tony’s.”

“You love my standards,” said Tony, coming back out of the bathroom to lean in the doorway as he brushed his teeth. He was only in his underwear and the image was like something out of a Calvin Klein ad. Or a Colgate ad, if they decided to go in a dramatically different direction from their usual marketing.

Bucky slipped past Tony on his way to clean his own teeth and he brushed his hand over Tony’s stomach as he went. It was a casual, everyday kind of gesture, but Clint couldn’t hold in a smile as he watched it. Fuck, he loved seeing his boyfriends being all happy and affectionate with each other. 

“We all love a lot about you,” said Bucky as he disappeared through the doorway.

Tony’s smile took on a quieter, more relaxed note, and Clint blinked at it. Oh man, had they actually managed a proper talk? That was awesome. And Tony looked so happy about it, fuck, hopefully that was going to solve his issues about being not as essential to this as the rest of them were.

Clint remembered what he’d thought earlier about Tony needing as much reassurance as his arrows and figured a bit of extra reinforcement couldn’t hurt. “Yeah,” he agreed, reaching out an arm. “I’d especially love to get a cuddle from you after being abandoned for Russian food all evening.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t go anywhere. “One sec,” he said around his toothbrush, and ducked back into the bathroom. A moment later he came out and crawled into bed beside Clint to give him a warm hug and a mint-flavoured kiss. “Like that?”

“Perfect,” said Clint, wriggling to lay his head back against Steve’s shoulder and pull Tony in close against him.

Steve shifted to tuck his arm under Clint’s head, then leaned over him just far enough to kiss Tony as well before lying back down. “How was the food?”

“Incredible,” said Bucky, coming back out of the bathroom. “We are definitely going there again.”

Steve let out a sigh so small that Clint was probably the only one to notice it. “Did they do cheeseburgers?” he asked, without much hope in his voice.

“Okay, maybe Bucky and I are the ones going there again,” said Tony, sounding amused. “Unless you’re about to develop a palette for anything more exciting than all-American grease...no? Okay, fine, Bucky and I will eat enough pierogi for all four of us.”

“Challenge definitely accepted,” said Bucky, heading for the bed, and Clint suddenly realised he was in the wrong place.

They’d never discussed it, but they always slept in the same places. Bucky at one side because he liked to be able to get out quickly if he had a nightmare, then Steve next to him because his nightmares were always about Bucky and it was easier for him to be tucked up next to him when they hit. Tony liked being surrounded by the others, although he would never have dreamed of ever mentioning that, so he went next, then Clint took the other edge just by default.

Which meant he was in Steve’s place right now, and Steve was in Bucky’s.

“Oh, hang on,” said Clint, wriggling free of Tony and sitting up. “Let me move…”

“Nah, it’s fine,” said Bucky, crawling into Clint’s usual spot and looping his arm around Tony’s waist. “I’m okay here.”

Steve pulled on Clint’s shoulder. “Come back,” he said, and Clint lay back down, feeling a bit out of place. Tony shifted back to nestle into Bucky’s body and gave Clint a sleepily happy smile. Wow, those two really had managed to sort themselves out. Thank fuck.

“JARVIS, lights,” said Tony, and the room dimmed. Bucky pulled the blankets up to cover Tony’s arc reactor, cutting out the soft glow of it.

“Night, guys,” said Clint, feeling his heart filling up again and, shit, after two years shouldn’t he be able to cope with just how much he felt for them all? “Love you,” he added because, fuck it, he’d said it once to each of them without imploding, he was damn well going to keep saying it. Communication, right?

“Love you too,” said Steve and Clint couldn’t stop a grin taking over his face. At least it was dark so that no one could see it.

“Night, John-Boy,” said Tony, which made Clint snort. He only hesitated a second before patting at Clint’s stomach, then leaving his hand to rest there. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” echoed Bucky and, yep, this was it. This was pretty much the best moment of Clint’s life, surrounded by three guys who he loved, and who all apparently loved him. He beamed up at the darkness and let the huge feelings running through him have free rein.

****

Clint was the last to wake up the next morning. He drifted awake to the sound of quiet voices talking over his head, and blinked his eyes open to see Steve propped up against the headboard, talking to Bucky and gently stroking his hand through Clint’s hair.

He did that a lot, Clint thought. He definitely wasn’t going to complain about it.

“Are you not going for a run today?” he asked, once he was awake enough to notice the difference with most other mornings.

“Nope,” said Steve. “Not just yet.”

“Does that mean we’re having sex instead?” asked Tony, with an eager note in his voice. “Have you been sitting there and hatching a plan, Captain Bossy?”

“No,” said Steve, then backtracked. “Well, I’m guessing if we all stay in bed long enough, we’ll end up having sex because I can’t think of a time we haven’t, but I’ve not been making a plan for it.”

“Well, now you’ve made him sad,” said Bucky, sounding amused.

“Not just him,” said Clint, shifting around so that he was sitting up against Steve and could see the other two. Tony had made it upright as well and had his phone in his hand, although he wasn’t looking at it because Bucky had his head resting on Tony’s lap, which was distracting all his attention.

Steve draped an arm over Clint’s shoulder and across his chest and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Your own fault,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night, and how right you were.”

“I’m right about most things,” agreed Clint, reaching his foot out to press affectionately against Tony’s hip and getting a smile in response.

“Did he give you his ‘we need to communicate’ speech?” asked Bucky. “It’s pretty effective, right?”

Tony brushed a hand over Bucky’s hair and down his neck. “It certainly worked out for us,” he pointed out.

“Yeah,” said Steve, sounding a bit hesitant. Clint reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I guess I was pretending to myself that words weren’t important, but...I love you guys. All of you. And I don’t want anything getting in the way of that, so I figure we need to work out ways to be more effective with our communication. Actually talk about the things we’re worried about.”

“Well, I’m worried that we’ll end up falling apart if we don’t talk enough,” said Clint, “so that sounds great to me.” fuck it, he may as well throw everything out there, if they were really doing this. He took a deep breath and added, “And sometimes I’m kinda worried that I don’t measure up to you guys, because I’m just a normal guy and not a super-soldier or a genius or any of-”

He didn’t get to finish.

“Oh no,” said Bucky, getting up from Tony’s lap and crawling across to kiss him. “No way, you’re so much more than a ‘normal guy’, you’re incredible.”

“What he said,” agreed Tony, shifting over to kiss Clint as well. “You’re the only one of us who actually took the time to think about fixing this relationship rather than just waiting for it to fall apart, after all, plus you have seriously incredible biceps, I mean, wow, there’s no way you need to worry about measuring up to super-soldiers with those bad boys.”

Clint grinned and flexed them for him, and Tony ran a hand over the muscles. “It’s only sometimes,” he said. “Most of the time I know you guys wouldn’t bother having me here if you didn’t want me, it’s just...you know how you end up thinking stupid stuff in the middle of the night? That’s pretty much my go-to for useless panicking.”

Steve pulled his head back so that he could kiss him as well. “We love you,” he said, with authority. “You don’t need to panic about that ever.”

“Definitely not,” agreed Bucky, shifting around so he was lying half on Tony’s lap and half on Clint’s. “I mean, I’m pretty sure we all have those panicked 2 a.m. thoughts, but next time just tell them to fuck off, okay?”

“Okay,” said Clint, smiling back.

Tony settled against the headboard, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder, and tangled his fingers in Bucky’s hair again. “What are your 2 a.m. thoughts, then?”

Bucky made a face, but he really should have seen that coming. “Oh, you know,” he said, shrugging as if it wasn’t a big deal when it so very clearly was. “That I don’t deserve any of this because I spent decades killing people, and one day you guys are going to work that.”

“Nope,” said Tony. “That’s ridiculous. That wasn’t you.”

“That was Hydra,” agreed Clint, slipping his fingers into Bucky’s hair, close enough to nudge against Tony’s. “We love you.”

“If anything, you deserve whatever you want even more after what they did to you,” added Steve.

Bucky gave a sort of shrug. “I’m getting that,” he said. “Just, takes time. And 2 a.m. is a really shitty time for logic.”

Clint poked Tony. “What’s yours?” he asked.

Tony rolled his eyes. “You already know mine, Dr. Phil. That none of you really want me in this and you included me because I happened to be around and, you know, providing you with free accommodation.” He said it with a causal, almost blaise, tone, but Clint was close enough to see the tension around his eyes.

He leaned in and kissed him, as softly as he could. “I’d still love you even if you were penniless and we were having to all fit into my old Bed-Stuy apartment.”

“Definitely,” said Bucky, pulling himself up on his elbows and dragging Tony down to kiss him. “I mean, it sounds kinda cosy.”

“It wouldn’t be,” said Clint. “We’d have to take shifts in the bed, no way we would all fit.”

“You don’t have to give us anything other than yourself for us to love you,” said Steve to Tony, which made Tony go a pleased, pink colour that he tried to cover by leaning in to kiss Steve, resting his weight on Clint to get close enough. Clint took his chance to stroke a hand over the smooth line of his back before he pulled away and resettled himself.

“Well, okay,” said Tony, clearly trying to pull back his emotions and put his usual mask back on. “I mean, I figured, I am pretty awesome, right?”

“Ridiculously awesome,” agreed Clint.

“We’re extremely lucky to be with you,” said Bucky, which blew through Tony’s attempts at a mask and made him dip his head and clear his throat.

“Okay, great,” he said, then turned a pointed look at Steve. “Your turn.”

Clint actually felt Steve hesitated, and nudged backwards with his elbow. “Communication,” he said, pointedly.

Steve let out a sigh. “This is going to sound ridiculous.”

“Nope,” said Tony. “We all opened up and confronted our fears or whatever, you have to do the same so we can tell you it’s ridiculous and then kiss it better.”

“You don’t get it kissed better unless you let it out, Stevie,” added Bucky. “C’mon, power through all that stubborn reticence.”

Steve let out a sigh so deep that it shifted Clint against his chest. “Okay, fine. It’s about Captain America.”

“You are Captain America,” Clint pointed out.

“Yeah, see, I told you it was stupid,” muttered Steve. 

Clint dug his elbow back into him. “Nope, come on. What about Cap?”

“It’s….okay. I don’t want to be Captain America with you guys, not when we’re like this. I want to be Steve Rogers. But you guys, well, Tony and Clint, I know you kinda grew up with all those images of me, and it kinda feels sometimes like you’re more excited about dating your childhood hero than you are about dating Steve Rogers.”

Aw, no. Clint pulled away from Steve so that he could turn around, dislodging Bucky from his lap and making Tony shift back so that he could take Steve’s face in his hands and press a firm kiss to his lips. “Nope,” he said. “Completely wrong. I couldn’t be more excited about having Steve Rogers as my boyfriend. And, okay, here’s a secret. I was never that into comics as a kid and, no offence, but Captain America was too old-fashioned for me. It felt more like my dad’s generation’s thing than mine.”

“Oh man, now I feel old,” muttered Bucky, but Clint ignored him because this was important.

“I was into kung fu movies, mostly,” he said. “I mean, if Jackie Chan walked in here right now, you guys might have a problem.”

“Kung fu?” said Tony. “Seriously? You expect us to just ignore the worryingly high levels of Robin Hood fanboying that goes on?”

Clint shrugged. “That was only after I started archery. When I was properly a kid, before my parents died, it was all about _Police Story_.” From the look on Steve’s face, he clearly had no idea what that was, so Clint made a mental note to suggest it for their next movie night, then leaned in to kiss him again. “It’s you I’m in love with,” he said, softly. “Not the idea of getting to sleep with Captain America. That doesn’t make any difference to me at all. Well, except in that I know it would kill my dad to know that his pathetic faggot son was fucking his childhood hero.”

“You’re not pathetic,” said Steve, wrapping his arms around Clint’s waist, “and your father was an idiot if he didn’t realise what a great son he had.” He kissed him, then rested his forehead against Clint’s. “I get that it’s stupid,” he said. “I mean, I _am_ Captain America, it’s just...I don’t know. Like you said, the kind of stupid thinking that intrudes in the middle of the night.”

“Ignore it,” said Tony, leaning in to kiss Steve’s check. Clint pulled back off Steve’s lap so that Tony could take his place, sitting back and finding himself nestled up against Bucky instead. Well, that worked.

Tony gave Steve a very long, thorough kiss, straddling his lap and cupping his hands around Steve’s neck.

Steve was smiling by the time he was done. “I hope you’re not about to try and convince us that you weren’t a Captain America fan when you were a kid,” he said, and he mostly sounded like he was joking around, but Clint could still hear that edge to his voice that said he cared about the answer.

“Actually, I really wasn’t,” said Tony. “I mean, do you remember when we first met? Did that seem like a guy meeting his childhood hero?”

“It seemed like a guy who had made a profession out of being an obnoxious asshole,” said Steve. “Doesn’t exactly mean anything, though, not when we all know you have a plushie of me in your closet.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “That’s irrelevant, I totally wasn’t a Cap fan as a kid, trust me.”

“Sure, okay,” said Steve, but he clearly didn’t believe a word of it.

Which was fair. “You’ve got the largest collection of Captain America memorabilia outside of the Smithsonian,” Clint pointed out, because they were never going to get anywhere with this if they told each other lies, even if they were only silly white lies.

“I actually don’t any more, I donated it,” said Tony.

“The point still stands,” said Bucky, sitting up and leaning against Clint’s back, wrapping his real arm around his waist and then setting his metal one over it, where the plates wouldn’t pitch at Clint’s skin.

Tony let out a very long sigh, then swung back off Steve’s lap and sat back against the headboard. “Okay, seriously? Do we really have to go here? It’s all a bit poor-little-rich-boy, I don’t wanna make you all sick.”

Clint raised an eyebrow at him, then gave a pointed look at Steve, who had crossed his arms protectively over his chest.

“It’s fine,” said Steve. “I don’t need reassurance, I get that it’s a stupid thought.”

Except he didn’t sound like he got it at all, he sounded like a guy who was going to keep brooding over whether or not his boyfriend wanted him or the fictional persona that had been built up around his memory while he was lying frozen in the Arctic.

Tony let out a very long sigh, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Okay, okay, just….Listen. Captain America was my dad’s obsession, not mine. That memorabilia was mostly his, and then I just...I don’t know. I never changed his standing order to keep buying up any new stuff that came out after he died. I, ah, I actually kinda hated Captain America, because he was the only thing Dad ever talked about with pride. I only kept that plushie because…” 

He gave a vague shrug, looking across the room at the closet to avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes. 

“Because it was the only toy he ever gave me. I mean, that he gave me himself, rather than telling Jarvis to pick me up something for my birthday or Christmas or whatever. We were out at some Stark Industries family PR day, one of the things that we all went to as a family and smiled for the cameras and didn’t reveal that it was the only real time we all hung out together. There was some stall there selling toys, and they had those plushies, and the photographer was focusing on us, so he grabbed me one so that we’d look good for the press.” He took a breath and then shrugged. “So, no, I’m not with you because you’re Captain America. I guess you could say I’m with you despite that. Because Steve Rogers turned out to be so much more awesome than that fucking paragon of virtues my dad never shut up about.”

“Oh, Tony,” said Steve, sounding heartbroken, and lunged at him to wrap him up in a hug. “I’m so sorry Howard was such an ass,” he said as Tony clung back just as tightly.

Clint wanted to hug Tony as well, but Steve was doing one of the really good, completely engulfing super-soldier hugs, so he sat back and just watched, gripping at Bucky’s arms where they were still around his waist.

“Turns out your communication thing was a good idea,” said Bucky, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Good going, Hawkeye.”

“Technically it’s Sam’s communication thing,” said Clint.

Bucky made a grumbly little noise in his throat. “Yeah, we’re not giving him any credit.”

Clint shrugged. “Guess I’ll just have to rake it all in then.”

“You’re the best,” said Bucky and kissed him again. “Hey, do you think Steve’s ever gonna let go of Tony?”

Clint looked at how the two were still clinging together and shrugged. “I kinda hope so. I mean, you’re great and all, but I kinda want to get my Stark hug in at some point.”

“Yeah,” agreed Bucky. “And a Rogers hug as well, now that he’s hopefully over his 2 a.m. thinking.”

“I can hear you, you know,” muttered Steve, but he and Tony didn’t pull apart even a fraction of an inch, so Clint figured they still had some time before he and Bucky got their hugs.

“I’m maybe a little worried that we just managed to give Steve a completely different complex,” he said, thoughtfully. “One about us only being with him to piss off our dead asshole fathers.”

Bucky considered that. “I mean, my dad wasn’t as much of an asshole, but it would definitely have pissed him off that I’m sleeping with scrawny little Steve Rogers.”

“Not helping,” said Steve, pulling back just far enough to kiss Tony, then turning to glare at Bucky and Clint.

Clint just gave him a beaming grin. “I love you, Steve,” he said.

“Love you, Steve,” echoed Bucky.

Steve let out a long sigh, and then looked back at Tony. “Why the hell did we decide these two assholes were good boyfriend material?”

Tony shrugged, then looked Clint and Bucky over with a long, lingering gaze. “I think it was mostly because they’re unspeakably hot.”

Clint grinned at him and flexed his biceps, because he was pretty sure that was always a good move.

Steve cleared his throat pointedly. “Before we all get distracted by Clint's arms-"

“Too late,” said Bucky, running his hand over Clint's shoulder and down to his elbow before following up with a series of soft kisses along the same path. Clint gave Steve a smug grin.

“Okay, before we all get distracted by the show,” amended Steve, “Is there anything else we need to talk about? If we're doing the communication thing, we should get it all out with.”

Clint tipped his head sideways to give Bucky more access to kiss his neck. “I don't have any other secret fears, if that’s what you mean. Well, other than that Bucky might leave a hickey high enough on my neck for Natasha to see and tease me about.”

“Okay, now I'm definitely doing that,” said Bucky, and turned his attention to sucking at a point just below Clint’s ear that turned out to be really sensitive.

“Ah, fuck,” muttered Clint, drawing in a sharp breath. “Okay, fine, totally worth it.”

“Maybe we should all give you one then,” said Tony. “Mark you up so that everyone can see you’re ours.”

The thought was unexpectedly hot. Clint heard himself make a whimpering sound as Bucky gave a final sharp suck before moving back to examine his handiwork. “Sounds good to me.”

Clint took a deep breath. “Asshole,” he said, but he couldn't summon up any heat behind it, so it came out more like an endearment.

He looked over at Steve to see the look on his face that meant cogs were turning and any minute now he was going to come out with strategic sex plan that would end with them all blissful and exhausted.

Okay, he probably only had a minute or two before this turned into nothing but sex. He struggled to get his thoughts back together for long enough to work out if there was anything else to say before that. They all knew he loved them now, they’d talked out their fears, what else had come up when he'd talked to them all individually? He looked at Tony’s smirk at the idea of putting his mark on Clint. Oh, right.

“We’re gonna keep doing this, right?” he said, and then considered that he wasn't particularly coherent when he'd just had a super-soldier sucking on his neck. “I mean, it feels like this is it for me now. I want it to be us four for as long as possible. Rest of our lives, if we can make it.”

“Definitely,” said Bucky, and pressed another kiss to his shoulder.

“That's what I want,” agreed Steve.

Tony hesitated. It was only a split-second’s pause, but they all noticed. Even Bucky, he lifted his mouth off Clint's skin to frown at him.

“Are you seriously about to say that you only want this to be short term?”

“No,” said Tony quickly. “Nope, definitely not, I want this for as long as possible. Just, the rest of our lives could be a long time, not sure we should be banking on that. I mean, apart from anything else, I can be kind of a lot, I wouldn't want you guys to feel tied in to putting up with my bullshit for the next couple of decades.”

Clint met Steve's eyes and saw the same realisation he was having, that working on Tony’s issues was going to take more than a declaration and a cuddle. 

“I’m banking on it,” said Steve. “I love you all, and I want to be with you.”

“You’re not ‘a lot’, you’re the perfect amount,” said Bucky, abandoning Clint to crawl over and kiss Tony. “I can't wait to put up with your bullshit for a few decades.”

“Let us prove to you that we mean it for the long haul,” added Clint. “We’re not kidding around. I love you, Tony. That’s not a thing that goes away, not for me.”

He followed Bucky over and nudged him out of the way so that he could kiss Tony as well.

Tony took a deep breath, pulling back to meet his eyes, then darting his gaze over to Bucky and Steve. Whatever he saw there was apparently enough, because he took another breath and nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, running a hand down Clint’s cheek. “Okay, let’s do it. The rest of our lives.”

“Starting with now, and seeing how many hickeys we can give Clint,” said Steve.

“Wait, what?” said Clint. “Why just me?”

“Because they won’t last on me and Bucky, and Tony runs a global business empire and can’t go to meetings looking like a teenager,” said Steve, looping an arm around Clint's waist as if he was worried he might try and get away.

“Perks of being the normal guy,” said Bucky with a grin, moving in towards Clint’s neck again.

“They don’t have to be just on his neck, right?” said Tony and, shit, that smug little smirk never boded well for anyone.

Or maybe it did. It wasn't as if Clint wanted to deny his boyfriends anything, and a few hickeys might be fun. He let himself fall back onto the bed and opened his arms.

“Go nuts,” he invited, and all three of them swooped down to kiss and suck at his body. Yeah, he could get used to this.

****

It was lunchtime by the time they made it out of the bedroom, and Clint was absolutely covered in hickeys. He thought about trying to cover up, then threw on a sleeveless t-shirt with a scoop neck that showed as many of them off as possible. He wanted people to see how much his boyfriends loved him.

Sam and Rhodey were in the kitchen already eating lunch.

“Jesus,” said Sam when he caught sight of Clint. “I take back everything I said about you guys being good at keeping quiet about your relationship.”

Clint looked down at himself, then gave him a grin. “No one _said_ anything.”

“No one had to,” said Rhodey. “Does being a super-soldier come with some kinda vampire tendencies?”

Bucky glanced over from where he’d opened the fridge to give him a wink. “I guess we both do a lot of sucking, so maybe?”

Rhodey groaned. “Why did I even ask?”

“Because you’re a beautiful naive snowflake, honeybear,” said Tony cheerfully, putting on the coffee machine because he was the best of Clint’s boyfriends and had his priorities exactly right. “But it’s okay, I still love you anyway.”

“Oh great, you’re in a good mood,” said Rhodey with a long-suffering tone.

Tony’s grin widened. “I’m a multi-billionaire genius with the world’s coolest flying suit, and three hot guys in my bed, why wouldn’t I be in a good mood?”

“When you put it like that, it kinda sounds like you have a harem,” said Sam.

“Nope,” said Tony, turning back to the coffee machine when it beeped to say it was done. “If we’re anyone’s harem, we’re Steve’s. He’s the one that gives the orders.”

Sam let out a long sigh and dropped his head to rest his forehead on the table. “Oh man, I did not need to know that.”

Steve cleared his throat. “They’re not orders, they’re suggestions.”

“Forceful suggestions,” said Bucky, giving him a wink. Steve went pink, which Clint always enjoyed seeing.

“Forceful suggestions that we follow because we love you,” he added, taking a mug of coffee from Tony.

Sam stood up. “Hey, Rhodey,” he said with a note of desperation. “You said something about the range…?”

“Yes!” said Rhodey as if he’d been thrown a rope while he was drowning. He leapt to his feet as well. “Let me show you. This way.”

They both scarpered and Clint started sniggering. “You think we should maybe be a bit less obnoxiously in love?”

Bucky put a plate of sandwiches down on the table. “Nope,” he said. “Me and Steve had to wait ninety years to be obnoxiously in love, they can just suck it up.”

“You say the sweetest things,” said Steve, and his tone was dry but he wrapped an arm around Bucky to pull him in and kiss him in a way that made Clint think he agreed with him.

“To being obnoxiously in love,” said Tony, raising his coffee mug, and Clint reached out to tap his mug against it. That was definitely a toast he could get behind.


End file.
